


Walk with Me

by RoseMonarch



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Under the Red Hood
Genre: Character thought to be sexually assaulted, Crack Treated Seriously, Daddy Kink, Don't worry, Fluff and Crack, I can't do that to my babies, Kinky, M/M, Misunderstandings, More like Dad kink, None of the other batboys approve either, OOC af, Or robins, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Please Don't Hate Me, Pseudo-Incest, Self-indulgence galore, They aren't though, Unbetaed we die like mne, angst apparently, cause I'm a freak, just in case, not really underage, or do
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-01-12 07:37:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18442013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseMonarch/pseuds/RoseMonarch
Summary: Maybe it's time for Jason to come back home. Or dragged back by an overprotective, dramatic Bat.





	1. You Still Have All Of Me

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline? Fuck that. Also fuck Bruce for beating on Jason. My precious murder baby deserves better. My heart almost gave out. 
> 
> An affectionate Bruce Wayne and a weepy Jason Todd are OOC af but that's what I wanna read. But I wrote it instead lmao. Also, Dad kink cause Daddy kink is too mainstream. Heh. (Please don't hate me <3) 
> 
> Also, I played around with ages so all of the boys are a bit older. Please suspend your disbelief.
> 
> Chapter title from My Immortal, Evanescence.

Batman swung silently onto the roof of the abandoned warehouse. 

He was sure that the other person was already aware of his presence but considering that they hadn't acknowledged him the last few times he had shown up, he was mostly sure that their current meeting – if it could even be called that – would follow along the same vein. 

Bruce clenched his fist tightly, hidden in the black depths of the shadows that clung to the grimy, sooty walls. 

( If only he could speak up. If he could just say one word without angering him–) 

Jason looked at ease perched on the ledge. 

Ever the Crime Alley veteran, living and breathing Gotham's toxic air since birth. 

He looked more like he was loitering and smoking just like every other normal boy his age, rather than the dangerous vigilante that was a product of Bruce's own mistakes. 

Bruce let out a silent breath, pride and longing wrecking equal havoc in his chest; Jason was so tall – so much taller than the ( a deaddead _dead Oh Lord dead_ ) fifteen year old that Bruce had last held in his arms – and muscles that spoke of intense, focused training that Bruce himself had gone through at one point. 

He was so beautiful. His boy. His boy who loved Kafka and Bronte in equal measure. His boy who used to climb into his lap after hard patrols and curl up under his chin ( _when he knew for certain, just like he knew that the sun rose in the east and set in the west, that he would never be hurt by Bruce's hands. Oh God_.). 

Bruce choked on a silent sob, shocked to find himself halfway across the roof and reaching out for the lone figure that looked so close yet _so far_. 

Barely stopping for half a second, he let momentum carry him forwards, feeling as though he was floating, looking at the actions of his body from far, far away. 

He imagined he could almost feel the warmth of scarred skin through layers of kevlar and leather. 

Almost whimpering, he buried his face in the soft black hair which now carried a white streak (evidence of his boy's suffering) – _he smelt the same._

He snapped back to reality just as he registered the stiffening of the figure in his arms. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jason didn't expect much on patrol that night. 

Just a regular stakeout in the old parts of the Bowery. Maybe some Tolkien and waffles later. 

And of course, his Bat shaped shadow that had taken to following him all over Gotham City. 

Probably looking for a reason to throw him in Arkham or out of the City for good, Jason thought bitterly, blowing smoke petulantly into the slight chill of Gotham's night. 

The first time around, Jason had been tensed to the point of shooting anything and everything that moved, but the Bat had never spoken up, simply watching like the gigantic freak that he was. 

Must have been hoping to freak Jason out but sucks to be him, Jason quickly got used to being followed around like way back when he had solo missions as Robi-

Regardless, he didn't expect Batman to speak up now, not when he hadn't the past few weeks and he wasn't going to either (no, he wasn't cranky that he hadn't managed to shake off the controlling douchebag; he just hadn't been trying hard enough, shut up). 

The wind picked up a little and he shivered, suddenly hit with a sense of nostalgia to back when the cold meant that he could duck under the black cape and cling to a strong back. When patrols were cut short and they would go back to the Manor for Alfred's hot chocolate and cuddle in Bruce's bed with an Austen. 

To back when Bruce still loved him. 

Gritting his teeth in self-recrimination at unwanted thoughts, Jason shook his head and put out his cigarette, preparing to shoot his grapple at the abandoned brownstone opposite the building he had been positioned on. 

He was just about to heave himself upright when armoured arms wound around his waist. 

 _Fuck_. Was this it then? Had the Batman grown bored of watching and decide to drag him out of the City kicking and screaming? 

His shock meant that he had wasted precious seconds in trying to break away from the restricting ho-

 

Huh. 

 

He tensed right the fuck up. 

What the fuck? What the absolute fuck? Was this a fucking joke? Some sort of cruel game where Bruce thought that playing at the past would make Jason leave? That reminding him of what they didn't share anymore would send him running with his tail between his legs? 

Jason choked on a sob, suddenly feeling very weak and devastated in turns. 

His heart beat wildly and his face heated up as memories of kisses pressed to his face and hair sent shivers down his spine and sadness curling in his gut.

"Shhh. Jaylad, no. Don't cry, chum. Daddy is here."

The low voice in his ear did the fuck all opposite of calming him down. 

He burst into loud, heaving sobs, leaning back heavily onto the familiar kevlar behind him. 

Fuck that asshole. He could take the weight. 

Suddenly, the world shifted and twirled as Jason was pulled off the ledge and crushed into a strong chest. 

"Breathe for me, baby. That's it. Daddy won't let you go. Never again."

Jason was tossed into a whole new world of despair. He curled his arms around the broad shoulders, knees weak with emotion ( how the hell did Bruce still manage to be bigger than he was?) and clung back just as fiercely as the man now pressing frantic kisses to the side of his face. 

"D-dad.." he choked out, sobs dying down now that he'd completely exhausted himself. 

Goddammit, he was such a crybaby. 

Leaning back slightly, he was met with the sight of glossy blue eyes that looked back with a mix of hope and worry. 

Well then, looked like his night had definitely taken a turn for the weird. 

 


	2. One Step Forwards and Two Steps Back. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's a beta? Can you eat that?  
> Supremely self-indulgent, don't mind this freak passing through <3

If asked at that particular moment, Bruce would have been willing to welcome metas into his city. Hell, he would have rolled out the carpet himself, and given away the Batman mantle and the Wayne fortune while he was at it.

Jason was in the cave. _Jason was in the cave._

His boy was seated at the desk chair near the main monitors, staring blankly into space, obviously lost in thoughts. His complexion looked waxy and wane, like he was a few seconds away from falling into a dead faint. 

The bright orange of the five shock blankets wrapped around him probably didn't help much there: Bruce had just about had a heart attack when Jason had burst into heartbreaking tears at his touch and had been frantic in offering whatever comfort he could. 

At first, he had had the horrifying thought that he had somehow involuntarily hurt the other vigilante but he knew Jason Todd-Wayne. Knew him inside and out. Even after years of separation, he knew when Jason cried when he was tired and when he was so very, very sad that his emotions burst out with all the force of a battering ram, hurting him at letting it all out as much as keeping it in. 

But the moment he knew that the seemingly impenetrable wall between them was broken down was when Jason had called him Dad. 

Bruce smiled faintly, warmth suffusing his insides and making him feel as though he could float.

Of course, he couldn't have let Jason go then. Lord knew that the young adult could take care of himself but he didn't have to. Not when his Dad was around. 

So he had wrapped up his charge in his cape and had carried his mildly protesting bundle to the Tumbler, setting it to automatic and hugging his baby to his chest, stroking his curls just how he always liked it. 

Jason had fallen asleep in an instant and had woken up to a teary-eyed Alfred, which in turn had led to another meltdown but now, he seemed to have calmed down considerably. 

Bruce glanced at the monitors, tracking the rest of his brood. 

Nightwing was a singular dot near Chinatown, engaged in a stakeout that was uneventful enough that he had been quipping laughably awful pun after pun into the comms and exasperating Oracle.

Red Robin and Robin – in a desperate attempt at forced civility by Nightwing – had been put together for patrol, near the Blackgate Isle District. Heavens help anyone who tried to break out of Blackgate Penitentiary tonight. Bruce could only hoped that the City was still standing by daybreak. 

Stephanie was a dot near the upper East End, where her house was located, most probably sleeping as she didn't have patrol and Cassandra was the only dot halfway across the world, in Hong Kong, but her vitals were normal and steady so he didn't worry too much. 

Almost selfishly, Bruce was glad that the cave was relatively empty, except for a bustling Alfred who had returned with food, and the bats. He did want to share Jason's return with the rest of his children but just for one night, he wanted his boy all to himself. 

He sighed softly and glanced back at the two other people in the room. 

Jason was now smiling widely at what ever Alfred was saying and he looked much, much better already. 

Bruce shared another wondering look, in a night full of shared awe and joy, with Alfred and leaned back in his seat observing his wayward boy in the bright lights of the cave. 

Jason had grown from a pretty, young thing to a beautiful man. His head of dark hair was still a thick riot of curls and he still smiled by stretching one side of his lips first and then the other. He did seem to have more scars ( and had lost some?), in the tiny bit of bared skin that Bruce could see ( he made a mental note to catalog all of his other scars as soon as an opportunity presented itself) but he looked well; healthy and happy, although Bruce hoped the last one was because he was back home. 

His eyes though. Bruce bit his lower lip,shifting in his seat. His blue eyes had the faint green sheen of the Lazarus Pit (  _a frisson of fear, Pit rage?, Lord no_ ) and Bruce had spent enough time in Nanda Prabat in his youth to recognise the look of one resurrected in the Pit. The same look that Ra's al Ghul had. 

Bruce shifted in his seat again, suddenly uncomfortable. 

Did he have Ra's to thank for resurrecting his son? He knew that Ra's had a strange affection for him but he doubted that the Demon Head would go as far as to bring his son back to life ( _should have never happened, allhisfault_ ). He could have tried to use Jason as leverage but – Bruce smiled faintly again– the twenty one year old was first and foremost, a true Gothamite who didn't let anyone tell him what to do, and secondly, it would be a cold day in hell before Jason let himself be used as a pawn. 

"What are you smilin' at?" 

Bruce was snapped out of his thoughts by the embarrassed growl of the young adult in front him. Lord, he was just barely grown, wasn't he? 

Bruce smiled teasingly back at a pink Jason, more relaxed than he had been in a while. 

"Mmm..you."

"Well then, stop it." Jason groused, looking away, the colour in his cheeks deepening. 

"I would rather not," Bruce smiled, with more teeth, noting absently that Alfred had left, "It's been much too long since I've looked at you properly and I'm not inclined to look away any time soon."

"Fuck, Bruce. It was weird when you did it back then and it's still weird now." Jason rolled his eyes, finally meeting his eyes again. 

Bruce felt a sudden rush of heat in his stomach. He leaned back fully in his chair, legs spreading wide. He patted his thigh, tilting his head to see what Jason would do, eyes intent and focused. 

Jason, on the other hand, seemed to have gone red enough that he could have been seen from space. 

He hesitated for a moment before standing up slowly, letting the blankets fall into his seat. 

Shuffling forwards, he came to a stop in front of Bruce, eyes fixed firmly away, pouting just a little. 

Bruce let himself grin widely before he pulled the boy sharply with a hand around his wrist. 

Jason yelped as he tumbled into his lap, hands coming up to steady himself on his shoulders, face inches away from Bruce's. 

Bruce hugged Jason closer by the waist, arms clenching tight around the body straddling his waist, much bigger and more toned than it used to be but just as comforting. 

The younger vigilante was stiff for the tiniest bit before he melted, arms around Bruce's shoulders and face buried in the crook of his neck. 

Bruce rubbed his back gently and blew air into his ear, "That's not what you called me before."

The embarrassment almost wafted off of Jason in waves before he slumped, resigned. 

"D-dad."

Bruce felt the heat churning in his gut and rising up his body, to his face. He pulled Jason tighter towards him, irrationally worried that something would rip him away from him. 

He bit the ear next to his mouth gently and laved at it with his tongue, soothing the hurt and smoothening away the shivers that wracked the younger one's body. 

Lips wrapped softly around the shell of the ear before travelling down the soft skin to the edge of the under armour and back up again, towards Jason's temples. 

He smiled faintly at the familiar taste. Kissing his way down his face, over the closed eyelids, the apples of his cheeks, his nose before finally pecking at his plush lips. 

Bruce felt wild. Almost like he could ruin the beautiful person seated on his lap. He gripped his hips in a bruising hold, making him gasp out loudly and pull back to stare down at him with wide, wide eyes. 

"Dad?..." Jason let his softly spoken words drift into the silence, staring down at Bruce in bewilderment, the air fraught with crackling tension. 

"Do you know what you do to me?" Bruce growled out, voice rough and hard. 

"W-wha–?" Jason gasped as Bruce shoved his hands into his under armour, the tight kevlar barely slowing him down as he squeezed the bare skin of the back underneath his hands. 

"So beautiful. So gorgeous. My boy. My son."

Jason was keening. Whining loudly as his father shoved a hand down the back of his pants to squeeze his plush ass. 

"Look at you. All mine. All Daddy's, isn't that right, love?"

"S-stop–" 

Bruce froze before ripping his hands out of Jason's clothes, already half out of his seat and turning to dump Jason into the chair and put space between them. 

"No!" Jason cried out, swinging his legs up around Bruce's waist, hands tightening around the older man's neck, least he fall as Bruce jerked like a mad man. "Stop movin', damn it! I just wanted you to slow down."

Bruce blushed slightly as he sat back down slowly, smiling sheepishly as Jason pouted fiercely in his lap. 

Jason's irritation faded away and settled into a blank expression. 

"So, uh. What was that?" 

"I beg your pardon?" 

The younger vigilante heaved a short breath, eyes closing in annoyance, "The-the hands and the fuckin'  lips, B!" 

"I don't follow..?" Bruce trailed off as Jason levelled a truly impressive glare at him, confusion making his own anger rise. 

Green-tinged blue eyes flashed. 

"Why the fuck did you kiss me, Bruce?!" Jason hissed, shifting uncomfortably and stopping abruptly as he seemed to realise that he was still seated on the older man. 

Bruce's hands flew up to steady the other man and he left them there, squeezing rhythmically.

"Did you not like it?" 

"That-that really is not the point. And I asked first." Jason said sulkily, embarrassment taking over his face again as he realised how childish he sounded. 

Bruce chuckled, hands shifting slowly towards the full ass thankfully still parked on him. 

"I did it because I wanted to."

"That's it? You wanted to? Even if I'm your son?" 

Bruce peered at Jason intently, mouth twisted in confusion, "We have always been more than father and son, Jason. We have a different relationship than your brothers and I, wouldn't you agree?" 

Jason deflated suddenly. 

"Yeah well the others didn't die and come back, so sure."

All of Bruce tightened as his body strummed with sudden tension. He clenched his fists at Jason's hips, eyes shut tightly and breathing harshly through his nose. 

Images flashed though his mind in a constant loop. Jason's blood on his hands. His boy's broken skull leaking brain matter. The stench of the warehouse. His own screaming as he–

"...—ey. Hey. Hey. B, come on. Dad, come back to me."

Calloused hands and soft words broke through his thoughts, careful and soothing. 

Bruce choked on a sob. The pain of Jason referring to his own death so harshly had rattled him for some reason. It had always hurt when the younger had thrown the fact in his face during fights or arguments but it had never pushed him to have a flashback. 

Having Jason in the Cave had dredged up old thoughts of his failure and memories that were best left buried. 

"Shit," Jason breathed harshly, in confused awe, giving Bruce something else to focus on, "Me dyin' really fucked you up real bad, huh?" 

He sounded like Dick had suddenly shown up in a shower of glitter. 

Bruce would know because that was exactly how his eldest sons had met. 

Shaking his head to drive away silly thoughts, he frowned deeply at Jason. 

"Jaylad. How could you not know? Losing you– losing you meant that I lost my world. I lost  _everything_." 

Jason blinked rapidly. 

"You replaced me." he said softly, confusedly. 

"I didn't replace you. There's place for only one Jason in my life. Tim had to be made Robin because I was losing myself and he noticed and tried to help. Alfred and Dick noticed. And they convinced me to take on Tim when he asked."

"Oh."

Bruce didn't reply, trying to will away his discomfort and embarrassment.

"But, the Joker is still alive."

His eyes snapped back to Jason's, the lecture on the tip of his tongue fading away as he took in the watery eyes and abject distress on his gorgeous face.

"I-I couldn't. I can't. Jaylad, I wanted to. When I held your body in my arms, I wanted to hunt him down and I wanted-I wanted to make him suffer. But Jason, I can't use you as an excuse to become that person."

Jason looked away, tears slipping down his reddened cheeks, some straying onto his quivering lips. 

Bruce had never seen something so beautiful before although he wished it wasn't like this. This painful. 

Abruptly, Jason stood up, taking a few steps away before Bruce shot up, hands already reaching towards the shorter one's waist. 

Side-stepping the grabby hands, Jason twirled around gracefully on the balls of his feet (a distant part of Bruce was supremely proud). 

"Bruce. Dad. I-I just need some time. To think things through."

"Can't you think here?" Bruce questioned him plaintively, stomach dropping at the thought of letting go of him right after getting him back. 

His mood was lifted marginally as Jason smiled genuinely.

(First one side, then the other.)

"I need space, Bruce. You of all people have to understand that. You'll give me what I need, won't you?" 

It was Bruce's turn to deflate as he nodded reluctantly. Now that Jason was back, he would do anything to keep him by his side, even if it meant letting him go for a short amount of time. 

"I reserve the right to come get you when enough time has passed." 

"What the fuck is enough time to you?" 

"24 hours."

"Fuck that. One week."

"48 hours."

"Five days."

"72 hours."

"Five, Bruce."

Bruce's lips curled in discontent as he nodded his assent, "I'll inform Alfred that you'll be back in five days."

"Also, tell him I'm sorry for leavin' without saying goodbye."

Jason turned to walk towards the row of bikes, apparently intending to take one home. 

(A part of Bruce danced in happiness as Jason acted so familiarly around the cave.)

Curiously enough, Jason turned around and walked towards Bruce with purpose. He stopped right in front of the confused man and bit his lower lip, hands behind his back. 

"Jaylad?" 

Seemingly having come to a decision, Jason nodded sharply to himself before leaning up on his tiptoes, hands coming to rest gently on broad shoulders. 

Soft lips pressed chastely against Bruce's own before they pulled away and kissed his jaw. 

"I'll see you in five days, old man."

Even the roaring of the motorcycle didn't break Bruce out of the haze of happiness Jason had left him in. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So B thinks he knows stuff but he really really don't.  
> Tsk, tsk.  
> He's so oblivious and has zero self-awareness, Jesus. And the little that he does notice, he doesn't really think much about. So much for the World's Greatest Detective. 
> 
> Also, I'm so sorry for the lack of Alfred content. Just imagine how focused he is on Jason, that Bruce barely gives a thought to anyone else. Get yourself together, B! That ain't healthy!
> 
> Obviously they talked a little in this but everything is not fixed yet. They have years of trauma to go through.
> 
> And if any of you noticed the lack of a /slicing necks open with Batarangs/ talk, that's cause I noped my way out of that. Wtf, no. 
> 
> Somewhere on the planet, Ra's al Ghul is wracked with sneezes. Lol.


	3. The Other Side of the Fucked Up Coin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason does not deserve this shit. He doesn't, damn it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, unbetaed and supremely self-indulgent.  
> Ngl, I cackled to myself a few times as I tortured JayJay.

Jason hadn't had anything serious planned for the weekend.

Unless one counted binge watching The Walking Dead as serious. Jason didn't though. In his opinion, only Lord of the Rings and it's ilk rated that particular tag, thank you very much (shut up Roy, he wasn't an elitist).

Back in his safehouse, he fell onto his couch, facedown, and stayed like that until the pressing need to breathe forced him to turn his head. 

What the fuck was his life and how had it come to this? 

Jason had cried himself to sleep on that rooftop, a familiar hand, pulling gently at his curls and mussing them down, had all but forced his body to recall comfort and safety and he had dropped his guard before he could begin to think about it. 

Lulled into a haze of remembered joy and better times, Jason had curled into Bruce's chest and held on for dear sanity. 

Of course, the little strength that he had gathered had been all but blown away when he'd come face to face with the one person he'd always been deathly afraid of disappointing. 

 

. 

 

Jason groaned as he came to. He hadn't slept this well in ages and the last time he could remember sleeping like the dead was, well, before his dea-

Freezing abruptly, Jason felt his stomach sink. 

The Cave. He was in the Cave. 

He opened his eyes slowly, blinking to clear his vision and turned his head slightly. Only to freeze again. 

Alfred looked back at him placidly. Well as placidly as he could with eyes positively brimming with tears. And Jason knew for sure, regardless of whatever doubts he may have had about the rest of the Batclan, that this man had missed him despite what he had become. 

Which was also part of the reason why Jason hadn't gone back to the Manor. 

He hadn't wanted to risk Alfred looking at him in contempt and turning him away. He simply hadn't the strength to heal from that particular hurt. 

He took one look at the older man, who looked less like he was about to boot him out of the Manor and more like he was looking at something precious and for the second time in one night, burst into tears. 

"Hush, child. There, there now. There's no need for tears."

Thin yet strong arms that brought to mind, iron and unbreakable strength, wound around his shoulders and pulled him towards a familiar chest. 

Alfred felt so _small_. 

He had always been larger than life and Jason had always been comforted when the man – who had the largest hand in raising him – swept him up and carried him whenever his tears got the best of him but never had he thought that one day, he would be too big to fit into Alfred's lap. 

He hiccuped and shoved his face further into Alfred's chest, no doubt staining the crisp white shirt and waistcoat, hunching to fit better into the warm circle of his arms. 

_"Alfred, I missed you."_

"So did I, my child, so did I. Words cannot express how thankful I am to see you again."

Jason peeked up with watery eyes. 

"Even if I'm not the same person anymore?" 

Alfred frowned slightly, "Master Jason, I could hardly expect you to be the same person you were at fifteen, especially considering the travesties you had been put through. 

"But I can tell you this, child, you're not as lost as you seem to think you are."

Jason bit his lower lip, blinking rapidly as Alfred tucked Jason's head under his chin, holding on just as tightly as the younger man. 

"I-I couldn't bear to think that you'd take me back even after-even after all I did to everyone. To Timmy and Dickie, and-and Bruce-" 

He cut himself off as another sob wrenched itself painfully out his chest. 

"Master Jason, do you still wish to hurt the members of this family?" 

" _No!_ " Jason cried out, eyes widening with the weight of the truth that he himself hadn't known, "I don-don't want to hurt anyone anymore. I just want-just want to be _okay._ "

He curled up on himself, chest tight and seemingly getting tighter, breath coming in short pants as the muddle in his head took over entirely, vision darkening in spots and glowing bright green in others. 

".. -aster Jason! Master Jason! It's alright. It is fine. There is nothing threatening you here."

Jason looked up to a worried Alfred bundling the shock blankets that had initially slipped off, back around his shoulders, Bruce hovering over the Englishman's shoulder like an anxious, fluttering _bat_ , only kept bay by the stern looks that Alfred sent him. 

"I'm fine. Sorry, just lost it for a minute there..." Jason trailed off as he took stock of the fine tremor in his muscles and the weakness of his legs. 

Damn it. He wasn't going anywhere, even if he wanted to. 

(He didn't really want to. Not yet, at least. Just until Bruce came to his senses and threw him out like he deserved. Alfred would probably object but at the end of the day, even he bowed to Bruce. And Jason intended to spend every moment that he was allowed with both of them.)

"Hmm. Quite. Sit for a moment, if you would, Master Jason. You'd do well with some food in you." Alfred smiled in that way that had always had a younger Jason staring at him in awe; with his eyes and exuding a serenity and calmness that had always calmed Jason down at his most anxious. 

With another sharp look towards Bruce, Alfred turned on his heel and stalked away, likely compiling a list of balanced foods to stuff into Jason. 

(Not that he was complaining. He had missed Alfred's cooking.)

Jason stared into the distance, distantly aware of Bruce prowling about in his periphery like the gigantic creeper that he was, but unable to focus his eyes on anything, much less on the man he still felt pretty awkward around. 

Why? What changed? Why did Bruce bring him back? 

Fuck. He wasn't a tiny twelve year old who cried at the drop of a hat anymore. He was a grown vigilante. An anti-hero if you asked some and a full-blown villian if you asked others. He shouldn't have dropped his guard and sobbed his eyes out in front of the one man whose sympathy he absolutely didn't want. 

He didn't care what people thought about him and he lived his life in accordance with his own values and principles but he _hated_ the idea of Bruce finding him lacking or in need of pity. 

For some reason, this man still had a hold of his heart. Of his _soul_.

They had always been incredibly close when Jason had been younger. To the point that he was pretty sure that Bruce and Dick had fought about the implications of their relationship. 

Unfounded implications but implications nonetheless. 

Jason knew that their previous relationship was suspect. Hell, he would happily butcher any adult who did the same things to a child that Bruce had done with him; the emotional dependence, the way that Bruce treated him like his equal and shared his worries and made him feel so damn important-

Damn it. Fuck. 

But that wasn't their relationship now, was it? If what they had could even be called a relationship. Murderous ex-ward/son who threw away all of his previous teachings and disapproving vigilante ex-father who would probably put him down at one point didn't quite have a ring to it. 

Would Bruce put him down though? Well, obviously the tight ass wouldn't kill him. But chase him away from the city? 

Jason didn't think so. Not after the previous few hours. 

But what had changed? What? 

He had been pretty sure that Bruce hated him. Or was apathetic towards his continued suffering/existence. What brought on the sudden change of behaviour? It made Jason alert and wary. 

(The longing in his heart only intensified though.)

He was brought out his thoughts by the delicious scent of Alfred’s special beef sandwiches. _Ohh and au jus dip._

"I expect you to finish the plate, Master Jason. Lord knows that you could do with some more meat on those bones of yours."

Jason cringed away from Alfred's judging eyebrows,stuffing a sandwich in his mouth to avoid answering. 

He swallowed hurriedly as the older man's lips pursed and he narrowed his eyes. 

"I swear I'm eatin' just fine, Alfie. Work is getting pretty busy so I might have skipped a few meals here and there but I swear I'm eatin' healthy and shit." 

"Well I shouldn't be surprised to know that if I've passed on healthy eating habits, it's to you, Master Jason. I shudder to imagine the state of Master Richard's pantry." 

Alfred gave a theatrical shudder as Jason sucked the last of the au jus from his fingers and bit his lip to stop the giggles from tumbling out of his mouth. 

"As if you're not sendin' him care packages every month, Alfie. I'm onto you." Jason narrowed his eyes playfully and leaned away to avoid the gentle swat of the older man's hand. 

"Quite right. We are all fully aware that Master Richard would be fully willing to subsist entirely on cereals but it gives me peace of mind to know that he is eating better than he would have if left completely to his own devices," Alfred paused briefly, piling the plates as he hesitated briefly,"And if you're not averse, Master Jason, I would like to send you a few packages a month as well, assuming that you're not quite ready to move back into the Manor."

Jason felt his heart ache as Alfred avoided his eyes. 

"Yeah, I'd like that, Alfie. A few packages a month sound wonderful seeing that I'm not movin' back in so soon."

Meaning that he would eventually move back in. Fuck. 

(He hoped that he wasn't lying. Did he even want to come back? _Shit, he didn't know_.) 

"That sounds splendid. I'll put together a few packages at once." 

Alfred looked like a different person. His eyes lit up in barely suppressed joy and the corners of his mouth curled up slightly as he worked hard to maintain his composure. 

Jason grinned back helplessly, unable and unwilling to feel bad about bringing happiness to the man who was in all essence, his father. 

"Yeah. I'd love that. Thanks a ton, Alfie."

With another not-grin, Alfred turned away, almost whistling under his breath and leaving Jason staring after him in amusement and wonder. 

Alfred's absence had left behind a problem though. 

Jason was now completely conscious of the way that Bruce was staring holes into him. 

Well, more like looking him up and down, over and over again. 

When he was younger, the constant staring and surveillance had been a comfort. That nothing could get at him under Batman's eye and that he would always be protected under Bruce's. 

Now though, it only made him uncomfortable, twitchy. 

(And had heat curling low in his stomach.)

He chanced a glance at the older vigilante and bit his tongue to stop the bemused laughter; Bruce was smiling, dare he say it, dopily. 

Jesus, how could he forget what a massive, awkward dork this man was? 

"What are you smilin' at?" he asked, face slightly pink as he looked challengingly at the handsome face. 

Not surprisingly, Bruce smiled wider. 

"Mmm...you."

Was this asshat teasing him? 

Yes. 

 

He was. 

 

What an asshole. 

 

"Well then, stop it."

Jason looked away, feeling his face grow hotter. 

_Why?!_

"I would rather not," Bruce smiled again, looking more predatory by the second, "It's been much too long since I've looked at you properly and I'm not inclined to look away any time soon."

Oh God. The flashbacks. 

Bruce had always, always stared and had always said the same damn thing when he was younger. 

What a dork. 

"Fuck, Bruce. It was weird when you did it back then and it's still weird now." Jason rolled his eyes, looking up and meeting his eyes again. 

Oh, no. Bad idea. 

Jason swallowed hard as Bruce leaned back in his chair, eyes hooded and staring intently at his face, likely looking at his reaction. 

He felt his stomach clench and his mouth go dry, watching the older man spread his huge thighs, sitting like a king on his throne, in complete confidence of his own power. 

Jason felt his face go fire engine red as Bruce patted his thigh, knowing exactly what the Bat wanted him to do. 

He hesitated for a moment, screaming soundlessly in the void of his head, before standing up slowly, letting the blankets fall into his seat. 

He took a few steps forwards, eyes fixed firmly on the monitors behind Bruce, absently noting the map and trackers of the rest of the Batclan, more focused on not embarrassing himself as Bruce stared and probably noticed every single, minute detail. _Fuck_. 

He breathed in harshly through his mouth, the breath cutting off suddenly as he was pulled forwards sharply by the wrist.

Legs almost twisting around each other, Jason righted himself just in time to fall completely into Bruce's lap. His hands came flying up to steady himself on massive, strong shoulders and his thighs (fuck his motherfucking life, he was going to live out the rest of his life in the bloody mountains, fuck Gotham-) spread over Bruce's own. 

Corded arms still covered by under armour wound around his waist and pulled him close, holding him with all the strength of the Bat. Hell, Jason doubted Superman himself could break the hold Bruce had on him.

Jason held himself tightly just for a second. That was all the time his fucking shitty self control gave him before he threw the last fuck he gave to the wind. 

Who cared if Bruce thought that he was pathetic? Not him. (Absolutely him.) He was getting a hug, damn it. 

He melted into the warm body under him, revelling in the familiarity and comfort. His arms wrapped around Bruce's shoulders and he buried his face in the crook of the older man's neck, blinking away tears as he inhaled the familiar smell of kevlar, sweat and cologne. 

It had been so fucking long. 

A large hand gently rubbed from the base of his spine to the nape of his neck as the thumb of the other hand drew circles in his hips. He shifted slightly to test the strength of the arm wound around him and relaxed again as he felt the strong hold. 

Okay, so Bruce wasn't letting go anytime soon. Looked like the dumb Bat needed the hug too.

"That's not what you called me before."

Fuck, the dumb Bat wasn't letting him go. 

Jason doubted that Bruce even felt his struggle as he tried to slide to the floor, face burning. 

_Did the man live to embarrass him?!_

He probably wouldn't let go until he got what he wanted either. 

Jason slumped, resigned to his fate as Life's favourite whipping boy. 

"Da-dad."

He gasped out loud as the arms around him tightened and he slid closer to the blazing heat of Bruce's body.

What was the old man doin-

Jason let out a high pitched whine as sharp teeth bit into his ear, sending electricity rushing along his spine and making his hair stand on end. 

Oh shit. Oh fuck. That was _good_.

A talented tongue licked gently at the reddened skin and Jason arched into the hands that were rubbing along his back soothingly, shivering at the confident touch. 

The tongue was replaced by chapped lips which closed around the top of his ear, warm breath triggering another round of shivers before moving slowly down his face till just under his jaw before rasping back up towards his temples. 

Jason felt like he was going crazy.

Bruce was ruining him. Shit, just a few touches and he was hard enough to break rock, feeling like he could fly and like he couldn't walk a damn foot at the same time. 

He felt small pecks all over his face before a firm kiss was pressed firmly onto his lips. 

 

Oh. 

 

_Oh!_

 

Previously gentle hands gripped at his hips in a bruising hold. Jason startled back to make direct eye contact with Bruce. 

He felt his eyes widen as he took in the wild-eyed look on the older man's face. 

Bruce looked like he was about to snap. And do what, Jason didn't know but hey, risk was something he was very well acquainted with. 

"Dad?.." 

"Do you know what you do to me?" 

Bruce's voice was rough with _arousal_. 

Jason was immediately snapped back to his younger years to when he had heard the same tone of voice but hadn't known what it had meant, only that Bruce had usually quickly removed himself from his presence once his voice had started to deepen to match the depths of the Earth. 

"W-wha-?" Jason gasped as his under armour was stretched to the limits by large, hot hands that pushed and shoved to maintain skin on skin contact. 

"So beautiful. So gorgeous. My boy. My son."

Oh Lord. That felt so fucking good. The-the praise and the acceptance and the fucking touching. 

He keened loudly, unable to control his vocal cords and the jolt of his body as B snaked a hand _down the back of his pants to grab his ass, oh fuck._

"Look at you. All mine. All Daddy's, isn't that right, love?" 

It was too much.

Jason was almost dizzy with combined arousal and confusion creating a sickening push and pull of good and bad in his stomach. 

If Bruce could only slow down-

"S-stop.." 

He hadn't even noticed the words tumble out of his mouth before he was tumbling out of his seat.

"No!" he cried out, using the momentum of Bruce's swinging to hike his legs up around the older vigilante's waist, almost strangling the man as his hands tightened involuntarily around his neck. "Stop movin', damn it! I just wanted you to slow down!"

Bruce smiled back sheepishly as he sat down slowly. Jesus, what a dork. 

Jason hid his smile as he glared down at the blushing dumbass before the situation caught up to him. 

So Bruce had touched him, in a less than platonic way and had, uh, kissed him (fucking hell, wow) briefly. But still, Bruce Wayne did not go around kissing people, not even when he was playing at Brucie. 

"So, uh. What was that?" 

"I beg your pardon?" 

Jason closed his eyes in annoyance. 

"The hands and the fuckin' lips, B!" 

"I don't follow..?" 

What. A. Dumbass. 

He glared fiercely at the man who had the nerve to look confused, channeling all of his inner Lady Shiva and Talia al Ghul. 

"Why the fuck did you kiss me, Bruce?!" Jason hissed, shifting in his seat before firm muscles brought him to a sudden stop. Oh Lord, he was still sitting on B _and_ he had a semi. 

Fuck his life. 

Strong hands landed on his waist and steadied him, staying there and stealthily massaging his skin, likely hoping to calm him down some. Bruce's tactics certainly hadn't changed over the years.

"Did you not like it?" Bruce asked pointedly, face twisting in annoyed confusion. 

"That-that really is not the point. And I asked first." Jason said sulkily before snapping his mouth shut. 

He sounded like a fucking kid. What the fuck was this man doing to him? 

Bruce laughed briefly – no, his dick did _not_ twitch.

"I did it because I wanted to."

Oh, now his hands were planted firmly on his ass. 

Jason ignored the steady leaking of his cock; he was having this conversation regardless of whatever his body decided to do in the presence of one, Mr. Bruce Wayne, who could apparently play him without lifting a single, damned finger. 

His chub deflated suddenly as a stray thought hit him with full force right in the sternum. 

This was the man who had taken him in and brought him up as much as he could, being as emotionally stunted as he was. He thought himself Jason's father and the young man knew for certain that the older vigilante loved his other children with every ounce of his scarred, broken heart. 

What was happening here? Did Bruce do this with the others–

"That's it? You wanted to? Even if I'm your son?" 

"We have always been more than father and son, Jason. We have a different relationship than your brothers and I, wouldn't you agree?" Bruce peered at him intently. 

Even with the emotional capacity of a celery stick, Bruce knew exactly what to say to calm him down. Jason had thought this connection lost to them and couldn't help but quell the slow rise of hope in his chest. 

"Yeah well the others didn't die and come back, so sure."

Jason had never experienced instant regret as he did just then. Bruce had gone from relaxed and open to closed off, shut down. His body tenser than a bow string and all of a sudden, extremely fragile. 

He breathed harshly, on the verge of hyperventilation as whatever thoughts he was struck by, squeezed water out of the corners of his tightly shut eyes.

Oh, no. He fucked up. 

Jason honestly hadn't expected this sort of a reaction when he had tried to deflect from his original line of thought and while he didn't exactly regret his thoughtless words, he did regret hurting his B. 

Bruce had started shivering, a fine tremor setting his muscles to twitching and a fine sheen of sweat had begun to form on his screwed up face. 

"Dad, come on. It's fine, Dad, _I'm_ fine and I'm here with you." 

Jason cupped Bruce's face gently, heart wrenching at the abject sorrow on the man's face. 

"Hey. Hey. Hey. B, come on. Dad, come back to me."

Bruce choked on a sob. 

Jason almost had a heart attack. Bruce Wayne didn't cry easily but for him to fall to pieces implied certain things that made Jason want to curl up in dread and regret. 

"Shit," he heaved a rough sigh, "Me dyin' really fucked you up real bad, huh?" 

Jason didn't know what to do with the confusing mix of emotions pressing for dominance in his head; he felt joy and awe at the proof of Bruce's love: he _hadn't_ forgotten him, he _hadn't_. 

But _Jason_ hadn't known that. And he'd fucked up. 

Objectively, Jason knew that Pit Rage had twisted his thoughts and Talia hadn't exactly helped to calm him down either. 

Sadness and regret mixed in with the happiness, making Jason feel nauseous. 

Bruce had opened his eyes and was frowning at him thoughtfully, "Jaylad. How could you not know? Losing you– losing you meant that I lost my world. I lost _everything._ " 

Jason blinked rapidly. What? But Robin–

"You replaced me." he said softly, confusedly. 

"I didn't replace you. There's place for only one Jason in my life. Tim had to be made Robin because I was losing myself and he noticed and tried to help. Alfred and Dick noticed. And they convinced me to take on Tim when he asked."

"Oh."

He hadn't known that. Talia probably did but why would she ever tell him when all she had wanted to do was destabilise the Family? 

"But, the Joker is still alive."

His heart wrenched in anguish as the words tumbled out of his mouth, wishing he could take them back. Jason did not want to get into this particular topic with Bruce, not when things were going so well; he didn't want to know how Bruce couldn't be bothered to avenge his death, to punish the monster who had separated them with death. 

"I-I couldn't. I can't. Jaylad, I wanted to. When I held your body in my arms, I wanted to hunt him down and I wanted-I wanted to make him suffer. But Jason, I couldn't use you as an excuse to become that person."

Jason looked away from Bruce's earnest face. Goddamn it. He was a fucking idiot. Why did he always forget that for all that they had once acted as one unit, Bruce was a fucking different person from Jason and wouldn't, _couldn't_ bring himself to take a life, not even for him. 

Jason sniffed as tears prickled his eyes and slipped down his cheeks. 

He needed space. 

Jason stood up, taking a few steps away and dodging the hands reaching for him.

Twisting around, Jason put a little more distance between the two of them. 

He _didn't_ want to leave. He _didn't_ want to leave Bruce on his own after his breakdown. But if he didn't leave soon, _Jason_ would have a breakdown of his down. 

Heaving a hitching breath, his mind raced as he figured out how to structure his words so that Bruce would listen to him. 

"Bruce. Dad. I-I just need some time. To think things through."

"Can't you think here?" 

Whiny dork. Cute. 

Jason smiled in fondness, "I need space, Bruce. You of all people have to understand that. You'll give me what I need, won't you?" 

Jason could see how reluctant Bruce was and felt a rush of fondness and affection as the taller man nodded, pouting. 

"I reserve the right to come get you when enough time has passed." 

Of course, the negotiation never did finish with Bruceman Batwayne. 

"What the fuck is enough time to you?" 

"24 hours."

"Fuck that. One week."

"48 hours."

"Five days."

"72 hours."

"Five, Bruce."

Jason couldn't help the swell of annoyed fondness as his firmness drew another pout out of the Bat. 

"I'll inform Alfred that you'll be back in five days."

Ahh, shit. Alfred. 

A strong twinge of guilt had Jason wincing but he knew that if he didn't leave right at that moment, he was absolutely going to let B lock him away in the Manor for the rest of eternity. 

"Also, tell him I'm sorry for leavin' without saying goodbye."

Bruce nodded sharply and Jason turned away, intending to take one of the less conspicuous bikes home. 

But. Jason really, _really_ wanted another kiss though. 

He hesitated and slowed down. He was pretty sure that B would let him but did he have the balls to plant one on the Bat? 

. 

.

. 

Hell yeah, he did. He was Jason Todd and he could do anything he set his mind to. 

Jason turned around and walked towards Bruce with purpose. He stopped right in front of the confused man and bit his lower lip, hands behind his back. 

"Jaylad?" 

Cute, confused dork. Yup, he was gonna kiss the dumbass Bat. 

Jason nodded sharply to himself before leaning up on his tiptoes, hands coming to rest gently on broad shoulders. 

He pressed a soft kiss to B's lower lip and nipped a kiss to his jaw. 

Racing heart, sweaty palms and weak knees. 

He was a twelve year old with a crush. 

(Lov–?) 

"I'll see you in five days, old man."

The roaring of the motorcycle couldn't compare to the blood roaring through his veins as his heart sang and sang and _sang_.

 

.

 

Jason curled up on his side, hiding his face as embarrassment took over him. 

How the fuck? Why the fuck? What the fuck? 

Bruce was his _Dad_. 

Alfred was his real father though. Even if he'd always called B, Dad, their relationship had always veered more towards codependent best friends who used each other as emotional crutches. 

God knew Alfred didn't approve but even he wouldn't have truly spoken up unless Jason had been hurt. 

But Jason hadn't been. 

Jason had adored Bruce. Had lived for him. Had hung onto his every word and had done _everything_ for him. 

Until the few months before his death, of course. 

In hindsight, Jason knew that if they had only _talked_ about their true feelings, nothing would have turned out as it had. 

No one in the Bat family communicated well though, not even Dick. 

Shit, Dick. 

Goldie was gonna kill him for desecrating the Bat, right after Babybat used ancient League torture techniques on him. 

He didn't know Timmy and Cass well enough to predict their reaction but he knew that the others probably wouldn't care until he fucked up again and then they'd come after him with everything they had. 

He was screwed one way or the other. Hopefully, Bruce would run interference with Dickiebird. 

He could handle Damian but damn, Goldie was a scary fucker when he was pissed. 

Jason flopped onto his back and stared at his water stained ceiling. 

It had felt so good to simply give into his desires for once, watching all of his teenage wet dreams come to life. 

Just letting Bruce manhandle him and kiss him and put his hands all over him–

Jason groaned out loud, throwing an arm over his eyes as his boxers tightened. 

He could have all that again but he had to figure out his limits and B's limits and a shit ton of other lines in the sand. Thankfully, he had (hopefully, it was the Bat after all) five days–

His balcony door slid open and a slender figure flipped in. 

Jason had his Kris in his hand and was in a defensive position before he could think about it, training taking over as he tried to figure out who had the audacity to break into his safehouse. 

"Hey, Little Wing!" 

Of course, it was Dick.

. 

. 

. 

_Shit, it was Dick._

 

"Jaybird? Are you okay?"

 

Fuckity fucking fuckcakes. 

 

_Fuck_. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jason is a lost and confused boi. So all over the place like damn.  
> There, there baby. It'll all get better...hopefully.  
> Mwahahahaha xD


	4. You Know What They Say About Assumptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Woooohooooo...it's Nightwing time! Yeah babyyy~
> 
> I had so much fun with this chapter ehehehe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!! Warning in the end notes of the chapter !!! 
> 
> Righty-o.  
> So I realised that I didn't really specify the boys' ages:  
> Dick: ~28ish  
> Jason: ~21  
> Tim: ~19  
> Dami: ~17
> 
> I aged Dami up, and in this fic, he came to Gotham when he was 14.
> 
> Again, unbetaed as always.  
> Happy reading~

Nightwing whooped loudly as his back arched in free fall.

A snap of the grapple gun and his body curled inwards, the whistling of the air complimenting the rushing of his blood beautifully as he landed on the balls of his feet.

He lifted up from his crouch, hands stretching up over his head and turned towards his younger brothers with a wide grin.

Red Robin and Robin landed lightly behind him, completely silent.

Dick frowned inwardly, not letting a single ounce of confusion or suspicion cross his face.

The nineteen and seventeen year olds had been extremely suspect in their silence ever since Dick had first met up with them at the tail end of their shift. Now, Dick hadn't expected much from his latest hail mary: undoubtedly not sudden companionship or friendliness (thankfully, because then the boys would have to be hog tied and dragged back to the cave for tests and Dick was feeling a little too lazy for that), but maybe some blood and definitely the ever present barrage of insults and criticisms.

Not this– this silence. Not even a single -tt- or a glare. _They weren't even looking at each other._

In the safety of his mind, Dick flailed frantically. What was happening? Was the world ending? What next? Batman smiling and being polite?

Dick shuddered at the mental image. Now that would have unquestionably lead to bat-cuffs and quarantine. Hell, Jason would have probably dropped by to kick the imposter's ass too.

Brightening at the thought of his other baby brother, Dick clutched his hands under his chin and swayed on the spot, resolutely ignoring the weirded out looks that the boys were giving him– honestly, they should have been used to this by now.

Ohh~ his baby Jay. He failed him before his death and when he'd first come back, but never again would he ever let anything happen to his baby bird.

The second Robin was getting along better with the family too! Showing up for joint patrol, using rubber bullets, not antagonising any of their other siblings. All that was left was for Dick to continue inserting himself and the others into Jason's daily life and drag him back home. He would evict B from the Manor for some time if it came to that but by all the Batpowers, he would get his Little Wing back where he belonged.

With another silent coo towards his Jay, he turned towards the two silent statues of the night.

Frankly, Dick wasn't sure if he wanted to know (that was a lie– he always wanted to know) what had lead to these two into taking up vows of silence. They were usually sniping at each other even if the other wasn't present. This weird behaviour was a legitimate cause for concern. Gods of Cereal! They weren't even looking at each other, staring fixedly into the distance, mirror images with arms crossed and thinned lips.

No matter, Dick was more than happy to snoop. And dig. And put two and two together. And get his hands dirty with all their affairs.

(Oh, what a terrible, terrible burden.

Inner Dick narrowed his eyes, rubbing his hands together, haunting laughter echoing in the confines of his mind.

 _What a terrible duty._ )

"So guys, any plans for the rest of the night?" he rocked back and forth on his heels, the very picture of innocence.

A glare and a tired glance was the response.

"-tt- Reports, Nightwing, like every night." a detached answer, well as detached as it could be when the owner of the voice seemed almost grateful to have something to focus on.

Damian was paying particular attention to their conversation and Dick could be wrong, what with the darkness and Damian's darker complexion, but _was that a blush on his baby bat's face?!_

(Inner Dick was torn between rolling on the ground from the cuteness and peering at Damian disbelievingly.)

Damian was usually exceedingly professional. Almost too professional. Just like another former Robin who was staring at the unfinished cement floor of the rooftop with way too much interest.

"And what about you, Red?" Dick enquired curiously.

(He was waiting with bated breath.)

"The same as usual. Reports, looking up cold case files, wishing for death." Tim deadpanned, smirking up at Dick.

That would have gone a long way in convincing Dick that whatever was up with them wasn't good enough to pry, if not for the minutest waver of the smirk.

Tim was an infiltration specialist. He was one of the best of the best, even when he was emotionally compromised, but _Dick was better_ and he knew what to watch for.

_Baby brothers had something to hide. And Dick was going to get to the bottom of it._

"But that's so _boring_." Dick whined loudly, draping himself over a long-suffering Damian who only shifted his weight to support Dick better (he really had come a long way from the prickly 14 year old who had infiltrated the Cave).

"Was patrol really all that dull?" Tim asked with a genuine smile, lips quirking up on one side, skin around the mask crinkling. 

"You have no idea. Stakeout was a bust and O never appreciates my sense of humour."

"That's because you don't have a normal sense of humour, Nightwing."

Dick couldn't see Damian's eyes through the white of his domino but he was very sure that his Baby Bat had rolled his eyes at him.

Pouting sadly, Dick whined loudly right into Damian's ear.

(He didn't even have to bend down. Where had the time gone?! Why did all his babies have to grow up? Thankfully, Tim was still smol and tiny.)

A shout of annoyance and Dick was pushed away, right into Tim's arms.

Tim smiled indulgently at a still whining Dick.

"So what do you wanna do, N?"

(Dick would have have been more guilty for manipulating his sweet babies like this but it was for the family.)

 _Hook_.

"I was thinking that we could all visit Hood and get some food together before we head home." Dick smiled winningly, arms coming up around Tim's neck.

Tim furrowed his brows above his mask, pursing his lips as he tilted his head to the side, in consideration.

Dick knew how much Tim still hero-worshipped Jason and honestly, it was so _cute_.

"Do you think he'd be alright with all of us just barging into his safehouse?" Tim asked doubtfully, hands coming up to hug Dick’s waist absentmindedly.

(Dick watched Damian out of the corner of his eye; the boy was twitching. Not noticeably but there for anyone who knew to look for it.)

"Yeah well, I'm kinda worried about him you know," He was worried about his Plans For Re-Integrating Jason Into The Family alright, "He's been kinda busy with a heavy case lately and I'm worried about the associations."

Dick frowned mock thoughtfully, fully aware of how both Tim and Damian had gone rigid.

 _Line_.

There _was_ a case about Joker Toxin being potentially smuggled out of the City but obviously enough, Jason wasn't working on it.

Not that either Tim or Damian had any way to know that considering that their access had been temporarily limited, by the great Oracle herself, due to a mixture of grounding and overworking.

It was _adorable_ how much they cared for their older brother and the subtle ways in which they showed it.

(Also, very sad, because Dick _knew_ that Jason thought that no one gave him a second thought. It broke his heart.)

Damian turned around abruptly, marching towards the edge of the roof.

"Get a move on. I, for one, very much intend to finish a project before daybreak." 

_Sinker._

Dick let himself feel a glimmer of smug satisfaction as he let go of a bitterly ready Tim,...also, some regret for worrying his brothers.

Taking a few steps back, Dick took a running start to catch up with Damian, throwing his body onto the adjacent roof and hearing Tim follow them as he too glided across.

He let himself enjoy the falls and the sharp bite of cool air, mind simultaneously at peace and brain flooding with endorphins as he flew. 

The continuous snapping and retracting of the grapple guns decreased as they headed towards Jason's most commonly used safehouse, buildings decreasing until the lone building with the mostly empty apartments stood in, possibly, the quietest part of Gotham City.

(Dick made a mental note to add a few more trackers on Jason once they reached.)

Dick threw himself forwards, past Damian and onto the balcony, sliding the door open and  flipping himself inside.

He came face to face with a blank-faced Jason who had a Kris in one hand and had taken up a defensive position.

Oops, Dick winced slightly, looked like he startled him.

"Hey, Little Wing!"

Jason still had a blank look on his face. And then, a resigned one. And then, a panicked one. And then, a scared one.

Dick felt his heart stop for a second before beating twice as hard.

_What was wrong?_

"Jaybird? Are you okay?"

Dick felt more than heard Tim and Damian land behind him just as he was interro–questioning Jason.

Jason groaned loudly and slumped onto his knees, hiding his face into his mattress.

"God fuckin' dammit. You're all here?"

Dick didn't spare a single thought to Jason's question, mind still stuck on his baby brother's _scared_ face.

He prayed that nothing had happened to Jason. He wouldn't be able to control himself if someone had hurt his Little Wing. Not again.

Or...had Jason done something?

Dick’s mind jumped straight to damage control. Bruce would have to be dealt with. If Jason had killed someone, he could at least be assured that they probably deserved it. But even though he still believed in the Bat's code, he wouldn't stand by this time. He wouldn't let Batman hurt _his_ Robin again.

He wasn't sure if he could divert Bruce's attention long enough to cover up whatever had happened but he was sure that he could, just long enough to smuggle Jason and himself out of the country.

Of course, even that wouldn't stop Bruce for long but Nightwing had a few favours he could call in; he just needed to start making preparations for their escape and he was sure he could get them out of the City by the next day.

Jaw set harshly, Dick stood up straight and looked imploringly at Jason.

"Little Wing, whatever it is, we can fix it. If you need to, we can leave the City by tomorrow evening. I _swear_ I won't let anything happen to you. _Never again_." His voice cracked as a sob crawled its way up his throat.

Damian and Tim who had been observing silently yet with rising tension, exploded into motion, and questions rising in volume.

Dick ignored Damian ripping off his mask with a wince, and instead focused on Jason.

His Jaybird looked dazed. Dick didn't blame him for thinking that he wouldn't support him this time around. After all, his mistakes concerning his baby brother were innumerable.

But he wanted to make it right. He wanted to be there for him. He wanted his Little Wing back with him again.

"Todd, if you require assistance, it will be provided to you without any expectation of reciprocation of favour." Damian sounded like Dick felt; tensed and ready for action (and maybe a little panicked too.)

"Wha–?"

"Jason, I know you don't like me, but I promise I'll do whatever I can to help." Tim said, clenching his jaw and his fists, his vow resounding through the room.

Tim took a few steps forwards, standing at the edge of the bed and looking at Jason who was still knelt on the other side,"If you think that you need help, we are right here, Jason."

Dick looked at Jason. His poor bird so confused, he obviously didn't believe that they would be by his side.

"No, wait. Hold the fuck up. What the fuck is going on here?"

"Todd." Damian furrowed his Wayne brows, "Were you not working on the Petrov-Saito case?"

"The Joker Toxin one? Nah, B took it from me just after I started." Jason said, still looked bewildered, "I'm on the Ivanov one."

The room froze. Ivanov being the sex trafficking rings run by the Ivanovs. And everyone knew what Jason thought about rapists and could certainly extrapolate what had happened.

"Jason, are you alright?" Tim asked quietly, looking at Jason from under his eyelashes.

Guilt seeped through the cracks in Jason's face.

_Oh, Jason._

"I-I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

He couldn't look any of them in the eye and Dick knew for sure that something huge had happened.

"And you weren't involved in anything dangerous?" Tim was still looking like a kicked puppy.

Dick saw Damian make a move towards Tim before stopping abruptly but pushed it out of his mind for the moment.

"Yeah, Baby Bird. I'm absolutely fine." Jason flashed a smile at the smaller boy, although his eyes glanced away quickly before staring them down defiantly.

Dick stepped forwards and almost backed away again when fear flashed through Jason's facade for just a tiny second.

Heart in his throat, he smiled at his brother, hands loose and within the latter's field of vision, "Wanna get something to eat with m–us, Jaybird?"

Damian and Tim looked at him in unison, Damian already opening his mouth and shutting up just as quickly when Tim grabbed his hand.

Jason didn't seem to have noticed the by play as he blinked owlishly at the non-sequitur.

"What?"

"Food, Little Wing."

"Huh?"

"Are you hungry? You look like you just came off of patrol. We could eat and catch up."

Jason sunk into himself even more.

"Ehh yeah, not hungry." he mumbled to himself, teeth worrying his lower lip.

Oh Jason, he had never been a very good liar, had he?

Dick smiled sadly, already moving towards the balcony, beckoning the bemused younger ones with a snap of the wrist.

"That's fine. We'll get together later then."

Jason didn't even _try_ to hide his wince this time, "Uh-huh."

"Love you, Little Wing." Dick jumped off the balcony, again wrenching down a sob as he heard a tiny "Love you too, Big Bird." on his way down.

"Why would you leave, Grayson?" Damian demanded, sticking his domino back over his face even as he sprinted across a rooftop, "Why did you not confront him? He deserves to know that he will not be abandoned this time."

_'This time.'_

Dick winced as a fresh wave of guilt and self-loathing washed over him but swallowed it down firmly before answering the youngest.

"You don't know Jason like I do, Dami. He would have run."

"You're going to investigate." Tim remarked quietly from next to him, the whooshing of air almost drowning out his words.

"Yeah."

It was said grimly and with purpose.

The return to the Cave was a stark contrast to the journey to Jason's apartment.

Subdued, they made their way into the monitor area.

Dick came to a sudden halt as he took in his surroundings. While the Cave was pretty homely what with their sweatpants, shirts and blankets strewn about, something felt off.

He zeroed in on the pile of shock blankets left piled on a chair as if someone had simply let them slide off their body.

"Ah, Master Richard, Master Timothy and Master Damian. I see that you've finally seen fit to return." Alfred's sardonic voice rang out from the entrance to the Manor. 

Dick turned around, still preoccupied thinking about the blankets, and stopped.

Alfred looked off. Like he was suppressing some very strong emotions. The last time he had looked like that, had been when he had informed Dick of Jason's death, _after the funeral._

Panic rose and crashed and rose again.

"Alfred. Was anyone here?"

Damian and Tim looked over from where they were undressing down to under armour, pointedly looking away from each other.

A smile. A sad one.

_Fuck. Please._

"Master Jason."

_What?_

"What?"

Dick could barely hear Tim's voice through the ringing in his ears.

"Master Bruce arrived with Master Jason a few hours ago. Unfortunately, the young Master left quite some time before you."

There was that sad smile again.

Dick almost didn't notice Alfred making his excuses to leave for the Manor proper.

_Oh God. Oh no._

"Dick? Dick?!" Tim sounded panicky. Tim shouldn't sound so panicky.D

Dick looked up, eyes crazed, and saw both Tim and Damian crouched down before the seat where he seemed to have fallen into.

"Ivanov, shock blankets, _Jay_."

Tim fell back into Damian who clutched his shoulders tightly.

"Dick, no–"

"Grayson, you have to be mistaken–"

Dick took one look at his brothers' distressed faces and burst into tears, dragging them into his arms.

He fell onto the floor, half laying down as he pulled his Robins into his lap.

Tim clung back as hard as he could, silent tears making their way down his face and Damian thinned his lips, simply holding both of his brothers to himself, eyes flashing with pain and denial. 

_Little Wing._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warning: So Dick assumes that Jason was sexually assaulted. He wasn't though. It's not explicit but just in case. 
> 
> Yeeeeesss...Dick thinks that all of the Robins, his babies, are /his/ lololol
> 
> My Dick is sneaky and a true child of the Bat. Suspicious, wary, possessive, no boundaries, dramatic /af/. Putting on a production or a show. He knows *exactly* what he's doing lmao. 
> 
> Ahh I love him
> 
> Also, what could possibly be up with Damian and Timmy? :D


	5. Changes on the Horizon. Looks Like Storm Clouds to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timmy is realising stuff.  
> Dami is a mystery.   
> Dick is...scary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ack I'm back to work on my babyyyyy

Tim sat alone in his room, staring into the darkness broken by the steady shift of the clouds shrouding the crescent moon.

He gazed blankly at the mess of cable cords, tools and broken skateboards that had taken over all available space.

That was a pretty good metaphor for their lives, wasn't it?

He shuddered, shoulders drawing inwards.

_Jason_.

Tim blinked rapidly, drawing his knees to his chest, hands clenched tightly onto the bedsheets on either side of his hips.

No one, absolutely no one, deserved the pain and terror of having their autonomy and control wrenched away from them in such a way. Especially, not Jason who had already lost so damn much. _Suffered_ so much.

Tim clenched his teeth as the numbness faded to expose the raging mess of feelings he couldn't even begin to decipher. 

Jason was the one who had inspired him to become the person that he was. The one whose death had devastated him and had driven him to take up responsibilities that would change his life. The one who had once tried to kill him but had then spent the following years making up for it, in his own awkward way. And even though they had once clashed terribly during Red Hood's takeover of Gotham's underworld, Jason had calmed down considerably since. He certainly hadn't attacked, provoked or insulted any one of their family in literal _years_.

Tim ignored the Gordian knot of emotions in his stomach as he thought back to the previous week.

He had veered off of his normal patrol route and had accidentally come across Dick and Jason talking animatedly. Well, Dick had been talking animatedly and had been clinging onto an indulgent Jason. Who, in turn, had been smiling down at their older brother, quick to scowl when Dick looked up at him.

And while he had been wildly envious at the time, he had also been happy that Jason, who had always seemed so alone, at least had Dick, a naturally clingy person, who was particularly relentless in his show of affection to their once lost brother. 

Tim had been hopeful that through the first Robin, he would have eventually been able to insert himself into Jason's life.

But who knew if Jason would even deign to stay in Gotham anymore? He had given so much of himself to this thrice-damned City. Hell, he had _died_. And as far as Tim was concerned? Jason Todd had every right to leave them all to _burn_.

Clenching his jaws, Tim swallowed roughly.

He wouldn't cry. _He didn't have the fucking right._ Not after everything he did. Or didn't do, rather.

He could have worked harder to reintegrate their brother back into the fold. After all, he was the only one who could lay out and execute plans without the Bat's knowledge. Hell, he was the only one who could lie to that man's face and walk away without any repercussions. 

But he hadn't done it. Hadn't even thought about it. Just because he had been nursing a fucking _broken heart_ like a baby because his Robin had rejected him.

He was a fucking disgrace to the Robin name. 

Tim snapped to attention as his bedroom door swung open silently. 

Reddened eyes stared at him levelly. 

Dick stepped into the room, the light behind him highlighting his silhouette and Tim couldn't help but lose his breath. 

His older brother looked like a mourning angel. Their brother's mourning angel who had to watch him break and bleed without a single way to help. 

Shit. 

He broke down, silent sobs wracking his body, face scrunched up to the point of pain, body trembling. Grief, the most prominent emotion, holding onto his heart in a vice grip. 

Strong hands held his biceps firmly, laying him out on his bed as Dick climbed in after him. 

The older man tucked Tim's head under his chin, holding him close as silent tears made their way down his own cheeks. 

"I promise I'm gonna fix everything, Timmy. I promise Jaybird is gonna be alright."

Dick couldn't promise him that. He had no way of healing or helping Jason without a million issues blocking their way to their brother.

But.

Tim couldn't help but hope. 

"What–what can we even do at this point? Jason's already been h–hurt. We couldn't do anything to stop it, I couldn't do anything." 

Tim sobbed, throat clicking roughly. 

"Hey, hey, hey." Dick leaned back, pulling Tim's head out of his chest, to look him in the eyes. "None of this is your fault, Tim. You didn't know this was gonna happen. We don't expect you to control everything."

"Well, maybe you _should_!" Tim wailed, eyes scrunching up again. 

Shit, he couldn't control himself at all. He really was a failure, wasn't he? Making everything about himself when Jason was the one who was always suffering. 

"Tim, _no_. I know we've been taught to be guilty about things we have no control over but Timmy," Dick, the fucking hypocrite, frowned, "Short of being an omniscient meta, there is no way you could have known– " He trailed off, staring blankly at Tim, thousand miles away from the Manor. 

Tim hissed a breath silently through his teeth, wet eyes narrowing. Shit. Their oldest brother was probably the most prone, after the Bat himself, towards self-recrimination. 

Always blaming himself for anyone getting hurt or missing a detail in their cases. 

Tim knew that they had Bruce to thank for fucking up their heads but at this point, being paranoid, overly controlling assholes were their calling cards.

"Dick?" Tim called out softly. He didn't know how to comfort people! That was Dick's job! Except that Dick was the one in need of comforting _and Tim had no clue what to do without coming across as the manipulative asshole that he was._

"Do you think that Jason will want to be alone at this time?" 

What the hell. He might as well embrace his inner Bruce. 

Dick snapped back to the present and zeroed in on Tim's face. His fingers tightened in Tim's hair as he considered his question, chewing thoughtfully on his lower lip. 

(Tim shivered at the feeling of his hair being pulled _and_ the shiny, red lips inches away from his face. This looked distressingly like the start of one of his recurrent wet dreams. _Pleasedon'tgethardpleasedon'tgethard_ –) 

"Jason.." Dick hesitated, absently patting down Tim's hair, "Jason won't want us around right now and not for some time, at least. Definitely not until he feels grounded."

"But that doesn't mean that he should be alone."

More like Tim didn't want to leave Jason alone. 

"No, he shouldn't.." Dick trailed off again, an unholy light, lighting up his eyes. 

(Tim shivered for a whole other reason. Dick could really come across as _manic_ at times.)

"And, we have a responsibility towards our brother, don't we? To keep him safe?" 

Tim couldn't help but encourage the deranged look Dick was sporting. Oh well. As long as it meant that his oldest brother had something to focus his energy on, right? 

Dick nodded sharp and quick. 

"Jason needs us, right now. We weren't there for him for so long and we shut him out and were suspicious of him for so much longer. Little Wing deserves so much better than that."

Ouch. Dick really knew where to stab, even if he didn't mean to hurt. _Especially_ , when he didn't mean to hurt and dropped hard truths like explosives. 

"And we can take care of the case and the perpetrators if he hasn't already."

Both Tim and Dick tensed up. Fuck, Tim could feel the sudden anger choking him, almost forcing the breath from his lungs. Dick didn't seem to be faring much better. 

"We're taking care of all of it, Tim. In every way possible."

The look in Dick's eyes raised his hackles. The first Robin looked seconds away from thrashing the room in a fit of violent rage yet his hands were oh so very gentle on Tim. The arm around his waist squeezing gently as it pulled his body even closer to the older man. 

Tim stared back silently.

His mind was at rest for just a single second before multiple plans unfolded simultaneously like lines of code rushing across a screen, at the height of his Red Bull and coffee monstrosity fueled nights. 

"Yeah." 

Dick smirked at the look on his face. He cuddled him close, pecking his forehead a few times before tucking Tim's face under his chin again. 

A sardonic voice cut through the bloodlust in the room. 

"May I join you, brothers?" 

Tim tensed right back up, on the defensive. Why were everyone in their family sneaky assholes who lived to give each other heart attacks? 

He looked over his shoulder to see Damian frowning down at their entwined forms. He opened his mouth to snark back when Dick interrupted like the shitty angel he was. 

"Come on, Dami. Lay down with us. I know I said I would be back with Timmy but we got talking and I lost track of time." 

Tim hunkered down into Dick's hold guiltily. Obviously, Damian was feeling just as terrible as all of them. Even the Demon Brat wouldn't be a little shit and try to separate Dick and Tim, or otherwise attack anyone at a time like this. 

Damian moved to walk over to Dick's side of the bed but he had barely taken a step when a hand shot out and pulled him down behind Tim. 

Tim flailed, held down by Dick's hand which might as well have been surgically attached to an equally flailing Damian's shirt. 

"Richard–What in the world?!" Damian yelped. 

"Calm down, Dami. I want my baby brothers within my eyesight. Please."

The tired sadness in Dick's voice put an immediate end to all attempts of putting space between them, and they settled down guiltily. 

But, Tim couldn't help but be doubly conscious of the furnace-like warmth at his back. 

Damian had always run hot and as he grew older and bigger, it seemed like his core temperature increased just as much. 

Of course, Tim didn't make it a habit to cuddle up to the sassy brat but that didn't mean he didn't appreciate the extra warmth when he always seemed to run cold, himself. 

And the last time he had felt this comfortable was on their most recent patrol. The same heat all along his front as Robin and Red Robin had squeezed onto a tiny ledge and Red Robin had felt warmth gathering in his lower belly like the heathen that he was–

Tim was forcibly brought out of his thoughts by a large muscled arm being placed gently over his waist to reach over to Dick. 

What was–? Was he–? Damian was–

Tim's eyes widened. 

The warmth at his back became a line of heat as Damian pressed up close to him, a huge, muscled thigh almost wedging between his own, smaller ones. 

He stared unblinkingly at the weave of Dick's cotton shirt, the feeling of the youngest _nuzzling the back of his neck_ , sending him into a spiral of _what the fucks_. 

Dick sighed, throwing a leg over Tim's hip and Tim adjusted automatically to accommodate the two giants using him as a teddy bear. 

A stray thought snapped him out of his disbelief. 

Damian was still just seventeen. It was so obvious that he was scared and grief-stricken at the tragedy that had befallen their Jason. 

He was a brat but he was their brat and he had come to them for comfort. Tim was still the tiniest bit suspicious but he would take the chance and comfort the baby because he was a good brother, dammit! 

Tim shifted back into Damian, fitting his body closer into the curve of the younger's, pleasantly surprised at how well they fit. 

 

 

Oh. 

 

Soft lips pressed gently to the the nape of his neck before being replaced by a nuzzling nose. 

That felt–

"I'm not going to regret anything I will do to protect Jason. Even when Bruce finds out." Dick said harshly, eyes glazed over in anger. 

All squishy feelings were forcefully shoved into Tim's Dark Box of Nope, with all due haste. 

The third Robin stared up at Dick, eyebrows scrunched slightly. 

"Well..," he drawled out, "Considering that he'll have to deal with neither of us regretting protecting Jason, I'm afraid he's going to have his work cut out for him if he is going to be  _Bruce_ about things."

Silent chuckles against his nape sent shivers down his spine. 

"You're such a good boy, Timmy." Dick cooed even as his eyes sharpened in a way that had always reminded Tim of Bruce at his best, "I'm guessing I can't talk you out of doing anything that will piss B off?" 

"The both of us, Richard."

Tim and Dick stared at each other before the filling of the – really delectable sandwich; Tim wasn't in any way religious but he just might believe that the higher beings didn't hate him completely if his life kept going the way it currently was hooo baby – sandwich flailed his way around to face a groaning Damian (well damn it wasn't like he could control where his limbs went all the time, although he could have probably taken more care not to elbow or knee either of his brothers). 

"Say that again." Tim demanded, forgetting for a minute that he had to be wary of the youngest potentially losing it and stabbing him in the face and then Bruce losing it and finding a way to punish both Damian _and Tim in the fucking afterlife._

Damian scowled _._

"Do you assume that I would be a silent spectator to Todd's suffering?" he pushed on, without waiting for Tim to reply (not that he knew what to say to the unexpectedly heartfelt words), "I wouldn't simply wait for questionable justice if any of my brothers are hurt!" 

Tim barely registered the indignation as he stared at Damian. 

Damian was...different. Obviously, he wasn't fresh out of Nanda Prabat and Talia al Ghul's dubious attempt at parenting anymore. But, he also wasn't the product of Bruce Wayne's frankly sad, not to mention highly irregular, fatherly advices that almost always ended up being about Justice™ and Truth™, when it didn't pontificate on the Rule™. 

Damian was predictable in the way that he had a violent lack of patience when it came to stupidity or lack of skill. He was also the man who held Alfred the Cat's paw throughout his surgery. He hated most people with a passion verging on absurd. He also smiled at babies and was exceedingly gentle with them. 

A strange bubble swelled in Tim's chest. 

"Oh." 

He stared at intense deep green eyes, absently noting the little flecks of blue and brown, the creases at the corner of his eyes, the lush sweep of his eyelashes as they brushed the top of his cheeks when he blinked–

"We love you too, Dami." Dick whispered, reaching one hand over to cup the youngest's cheek. 

Tim cuddled back into Dick's tight hold, grasping for the best words but unfortunately, struck dumb by the look that flickered in Damian's eyes just before they closed gently, leaning into their older brother's hand for the smallest minute.  

"Then we are in agreement? We investigate the case Todd took on and we trace his steps to his current position."

His eyes were blazing now. With all the fury of a Bat and all the compassion of a...well, Damian. 

"I'm trusting the two of you to monitor Jason's comms and comb through every person he could have possibly come in contact with. We need to be extremely sure before we...take further steps." Dick grimaced slightly, almost crushing Tim in his grip. 

"A-and B?" Tim gasped out, not noticing a stricken Damian staring at his open mouth. 

(Dick did. He most certainly did.)

The first Robin's arms eased from around Tim's waist and quick as a heh, Flash, he rolled Tim and Damian over, only for Tim to end up sprawling on the youngest's chest. 

Cheerfully ignoring the gasped complaints, Dick cuddled up to them. 

"I deal with him."

 

* * *

 

 

Roybaby 05:41

_New mission._

_Thanagar._

_You in?_

 

Jason had been catastrophising like the best of them, after the unexpected visit from the fam. 

The messages from Roy had been a welcome break from his thoughts of all the ways Nightwing could break him for defiling the Bat. But, would a few million lightyears be enough to escape his fate? 

Jason smirked shakily.

Oh hell. It was worth a damn shot. 

 

Jaybaby 05:58

_Obviously_.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timmy is a horny baby who's in love with everyone!   
> :D

**Author's Note:**

> Bruce is an angsty, dramatic boi.  
> Jason is just as dramatic lmao. 
> 
> Please pray for my soul.


End file.
